


Vacation

by reactcr



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Stony - Freeform, aw shit undercover missions, i love these boys, i love writing behind-the-scene stuff tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-21 06:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19997194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reactcr/pseuds/reactcr
Summary: It's their latest undercover mission, and Steve is determined to catch these dealers in the act. Tony has something else in mind.





	Vacation

It’s quiet, serene, peaceful almost. Happy couples clink their glasses together, laughing in conversation with their few too many drinks. Children’s playful screams fill Steve’s ears, the occasional splash of water from the bar-side pool catching the edge of exposed ankles. The floor rocked gently, carrying both he and the occupants into a slow, timeless rhythm. 

It was as a cruise should be — save the reason he was here. 

“C’mon.” 

Steve lightly nudges the foot encroaching on his space. “How long are you hoping to keep this up?” 

“Until you agree.” 

He rolls his eyes, adjusting shades accordingly. They were the only thing that both kept the bright rays of sun from Steve’s eyes, and hid his all too recognizable face. 

He turns his head, only slightly (at least _ one _ of them had to be subtle). “This isn’t a vacation, Tony. We have a job — remember?” 

Tony reciprocates the slight turn of his head, an eyebrow quirking far above the reach of his own glasses. “Uh-huh. Right. Here’s a thought.” He tips his glass, sipping on what had to be his fourth glass of scotch. “Fifteen minutes won’t make or break the mission.” 

As much as Steve wanted to agree, his eyes stay forward. “How do you know that?” 

“Because it never  _ does _ .” Tony counters, eyes momentarily averting when passerby’s spare a glance to the two. Loose, chocolate locks tickled his forehead, the lack of product more than convincing to keep them moving. “I thought you’d be all over this.” 

Steve scoffs, bringing his own drink atop the bar to his lips. “I take my work very seriously.” 

“Maybe a little too seriously.” Steve doesn’t have to look to know there’s a smirk sprawled across the billionaire's face. Steve stays silent; and Tony lazily looks over his shoulder, eyes falling across people and their surroundings. “Ten minutes.” He compromises. Steve snorts. 

“I deserve  _ something _ for playing the drunk.” 

It’s Steve’s turn to smirk, fingers idly running through his beard. “You stopped playing the drunk two drinks ago.” He says, barely hiding a grin when an elbow snags him in the ribs. 

“And you need to lose the shorts.” Tony mutters, lightly placing the glass down with an exhale. “Ten minutes.” He repeats, daring to turn his body slightly towards the man to his right. 

Tony was almost as stubborn as Steve was.  _ Almost.  _

“Ten minutes.” Steve finally agrees, sipping one last time on his drink before placing it down beside Tony’s. “Only because the shorts  _ really _ need to go.” They may have been undercover, but to reduce himself to a Hawaiian top and beige shorts was by far the worst crime to be committed on this ship.

The answer visibly delights Tony. “I knew you’d see it my way.” He says, and Steve snorts, watching Tony find his footing. He brushes past Steve, running fingers along the curve of his back in a way that sends chills straight down his spine. “Two minutes. Meet me.” His voice runs low and husky, and Steve’s fingers crack the glass. 

Two minutes couldn’t come sooner. 

One last half-hearted look around ensured no suspicion, allowing Steve to casually and efficiently excuse himself to their room, unable to keep from imagining an assortment of scenarios; none which were farfetched, knowing Tony. 

He slides the card out of tacky pockets, into the key slot, and turns the handle. 

It’s dark, that’s no surprise. Steve removes his sunglasses and steps inside, quietly closing the door with a quick flip of the deadbolt. His eyes adjust fairly quickly, enough to find an unusual figure standing in their room. 

“Tony?” He inquires, unable to see the glow of his reactor -- but they’d sealed its glow for disguise purposes. 

“It’s stuck.” His words are muffled, laced with a giggle, and Steve finally understands; his shirt is caught on elbows and head. 

Steve doesn’t laugh  _ at  _ Tony hardly ever, but exceptions can always be made. “Honey,” His laugh bleeds humored sympathy, hurrying over to help pop the shirt over the inebriated man’s head. “I can’t leave you alone for two minutes, can I?” Its meant as a tease, and Steve’s eyes settle on that beautiful smile, bright even through the dim room. 

“Evidently not.” Steve laughs a second time, gently sealing lips with Tony’s. The taste of scotch is strong, and all Steve wants to do is kiss him again. 

“Mm,” Tony melts, pushing closer to Steve with every intention of removing that vibrantly colored monstrocity. Sloppy fingers unbutton his shirt, roughly pushing the fabric over shoulders and off his arms. Steve more than happily throws both their shirts onto the floor, making each kiss deeper than the last. 

Next to go are those shorts, calloused fingers hurriedly pushing them down with underwear, a feeling that sends  _ want  _ all throughout Steve. He steps out of them, walking he and Tony to the bed, playfully pushing Tony back to have him bouncing on the mattress. Tony grins, eagerly clawing Steve back down to him when he clambers onto the bed, pressing deep, sloppy kisses to soft, perfect lips. 

Steve knows ten minutes isn’t nearly enough time. 

He reluctantly pulls back with a loud part of lips, prying fabric off of Tony’s hips and pulling them off. Seems he at least had enough sense to slip his sandals off before his shirt. He slips them over feet, and tosses them away, wasting no time returning for more. 

He nips up Tony’s stomach, teasing kisses around the scar tissue bordering his reactor. It was unusually dark with the cover, but the amount of work it took to rewrap the reactor outweighed the soft glow of light (even if Steve loved his night-light so). Instead he peppers loving kisses right up to the seam, reveling in the all-body shiver. 

“You knew ten minutes was unrealistic.” Teeth tug at a soft nipple, rewarding Steve with calloused fingers in hair, and soft, delicious gasps. 

“Obviously.” Tony mumbles, tangling fingers rather roughly inside blonde locks. Tony knew all too well he loved it rough, and for that he receives hot, warm lips mouthing at his throat. 

Not another second is wasted. Tony works open beautifully, moans urging Steve’s fingers to curl further, faster, longer. Steve’s name is hot on his lips, and it takes all of his enhanced strength to keep from finger fucking him to one beautiful orgasm. This is for both of them, and Steve knows if he doesn’t bury his cock inside of Tony  _ now, _ he won’t think straight for the rest of the day. 

His fingers leave Tony empty long enough to roll a condom and coat himself even, hoping to spare themselves the cleanup time this  _ once. _ They were on the clock, and ten minutes’ break put an awful lot of holes in their plan. His hand grips a thigh, the other guiding his way, though with Tony so beautifully sprawled out he hardly needs the assistance. His cock pushes slow,  _ deep,  _ and the moan that melts off Tony’s tongue is  _ bliss  _ for Steve. 

He settles above Tony, blues locked with hazel as Tony takes every goddamn inch Steve offers. He wants to savor this moment, remember that hazy look in his lovers’ eyes and moppy hair strewn so beautifully across their sheets. He hates to rush, but he loves the thrill, and thank  _ god  _ Steve will remember every last detail and commit it to memory. 

He fucks him hard, dirty, and quick, hardly able to fully enjoy the sting of nails down his back and the profanities slipping from Tony’s lips. He loves every precious second, careful to mark skin where clothes would conceal, and for only him to know. He rocks Tony’s core to rough orgasm, his own wild and rushed -- but the look on Tony’s face is  _ divine.  _

The sheets are ripped where fingers gripped, Tony’s ass is undoubtedly numb, and both he and Steve are panting hard, sweat beading down their awkwardly tanned skin. 

It takes all of Steve’s will to remove himself, clean Tony up with a careful tongue up softening dick, and clean his own mess with an uncomfortable peel. It’s only after he returns with damp towels and water does he see Tony move from the man-shaped rut in the mattress. 

Tony downs the drink as soon as its offered, welcomes the rag across his stomach, and scrunches nose at the soft hand that brushes locks away for a sweet forehead kiss. 

“Boats’ still floating. Told you.” Tony roughly gets out, needing more than just water to cure the rasp in his voice. Steve laughs, sitting beside him and carefully running thumb along a cheek. 

“For now,” Steve muses, lips pressing another soft kiss to still-flushed cheeks. “Might not be the case after you finally find it in you to move.” The best part about this is that Tony’s too worn out to properly retaliate, which means Steve triumphs most all post-sex discussions. 

“We should do this more often.” 

“Abandoning our mission posts?” 

Tony tiredly bumps shoulder against him. “Vacationing.” 

Steve quirks an eyebrow, half tempted to remind the still-tipsy man that this in fact, was the opposite of a traditional vacation, but -- considering the past ‘ten minutes…’ 

He smiles, chuckling softly as he wraps an arm around Tony’s shoulders. “Vacation only ends when we catch the black market dealers.” 

“--Then it’s settled.” Tony answers, questioning eyes falling on blues. “Round two?” 

Steve laughs, and pulls Tony down with him into the sheets. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading! you can find me on tumblr @reactcr. I'm still working on doing the whole smut thing properly in fanfic, so thanks for going through it with me!
> 
> kudos and comments are very very appreciated <3


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